Note to Myself
by Baalsgirl
Summary: Carson reads Rodney's diary, while the latter digs up Carson's most personal letters. Status: Updated. InstinctConversion are finally there.
1. Note 1

**Note to Myself ** _by Baalsgirl_

Summary: Carson finds Rodney's most secret records, while the latter digs up a bunch of very personal letters.

Season: Kind of a digest of S 1's happenings and some more...

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything except for the story line. Wished to own at least Carson & Rodney, though, _sigh_.

Rating: K+ (for some people's big mouth)

Pairings: Carson/Rodney slashed

xxxxx

"Rodney?" Carson knocked on the door, "are you there?"

He waited for a moment then knocked again. "Obviously not", he muttered to himself, "but maybe..." his finger tipped against the door control and, indeed, it slid open.

Carefully Carson poked his head inside making a step forward, then another one and ... tripped over a huge crimp in the carpet.

"Bloody ... ", he moaned; what the hell had he just landed on? Slowly he reached under the carpet and pulled the hard thing out. It was a small notebook. After a moment of thought he flipped open the first page and started to read. It did not take long until he realized that he had just found Rodney's diary.

Chuckling he curled up his legs and continued his read.

xxxxx

Dear Diary,

So this is Atlantis. Great, really. The first days here were the worst you could do to such a highly qualified astrophysicist as I am one:

First of all we nearly drowned, not much later we found out that there is a huge horde of life-sucking aliens is running around in this galaxy and then we (this means Major Sheppard in the first place...) woke the entire bunch of them from hibernation, so that most likely we have them on our collective asses now.

But that's not all. Tonight I nearly exploded as I realized that Kevanough has survived the trip to the city. (It would've been such a nice opportunity to get rid of him for all times...)

Note to myself: Stick his brainless head into the next toilet and flush as soon as he dares contradicting again.

But you know the best part of my last three days? An hour ago there was a trace of lemon (or something similar to that devilish fruit) in my evening snack and now I have to scratch the multiple allergy pimples that popped up on my butt.

I tell you, it won't take long until I'll _freak out _here and start being really _ugly_ with all these _creeps_ around.

Plus: I miss Frisky.

Regards, Rodney

xxxxx


	2. Note 2

With a little chuckle Carson flipped the page. Now it was official that he was not the only one who felt uneasy being in another galaxy, even Rodney did...

But telling him that he shouldn't be such a chicken - that needed revenge the next time Rodney came to see him lamenting about some minor itch again as if it were his sure death. Carson really looked forward to it; but first of all he had to stop laughing about the next entry:

xxxxx

Dear Diary,

Guess what? I'm invulnerable.

Started with me getting Beckett's gene therapy (sometimes it can be fun to play the guinea pig). And now I've got the ATA gene which means that Sheppard does no longer have an advance on me.

To check it out I've activated the personal shield device I've found in one of the labs.

Which means that I'm currently :

INVULNERABLE , _in-vul-ne-ra-ble, _**invulnerable**.

Major Sheppard has already had a fun time shooting at me and throwing me from deadly heights. I still assume that he hoped I died or at least bruised as he did, mischievous as _he_ is.

Then I asked Peter Grodin to hit me. And of course did it, swinging like a hammer. The consequence is that he broke himself all his fingers into shatters.

Makes me wish that I would've had such a shield device in high school...

Yours, Rodney

xxxxx

Dear Diary,

I've got a huge problem here: I CAN'T EAT nor drink anything. I'm gonna DIE. 

So, it was nice to know you.

Love, Rodney

xxxxx

Dear Diary,

I'm ALIVE. And I ridded this place of an evil energy monster. But I _fainted _two time. If Beckett ever uses this word again I'll put his head into the toilet basin right next to Kavanough's. No matter if it's 'a proper medical term' or if Glasgow is on fire (that'd be my next step there...)

Not counting that he even _tried_ to correct himself once, _reluctantly_.

Well, I'll continue to work on my vendetta.

Soon, Rodney

P.S.: Note to myself: Always pack some Power Bars into my pockets, in case that I'm about to starve again.

xxxxx

AN: So, next time Rodney will find the letters on his trip to infirmary because I want someone else to say something as well.

Soon, _Baalsgirl_


	3. Letter 1

Obviously he had had too much Power Bars in combination with black coffee, since now his stomach was going haywire and kept him from thinking.

With a pitiful face Rodney dragged himself into Carson's office. "Anybody around?" he called, not getting a response, "Carson? Car...?"

That moment Rodney lost his breath, he leapt backwards holding his forehead with a hand. Alert he stared at the swinging metal bookstand her had just run into. What was that doing in his way? Had Carson rearranged his furniture?

Quickly Rodney grabbed one of its lower shelves to keep it from crashing onto him, but he wasn't too successful with it, the topmost shelves kept on swinging, some books fell down closely missing his head. He was about to let out a relieved sigh as a final jerk went through the bookstand.

Fearfully Rodney looked up and was showered by a swarm of neatly folded papers. Slowly he got down and collected them.

As he had picked up the last paper he ventured to unfold it and have a curious look. Then, as he began to read the first lines, Rodney realized that he had found a little treasure:

_Dear Mum, _

_Hopefully you are all well. (I'm sure you are, because you follow all my prescriptions, don't you?)_

_I for my part am kind of well, too. Despite of the fact that I'm bloody lonely without you here in this remote place where I'm working now. It's so horribly far away from the next post office, so that I don't really know when you'll be getting this letter._

_But, be unconcerned, it isn't all bad and worse where I am. In general people here are pretty nice and I can do a lot to help them every day._

_And guess what: I've even found a friend! _

_His name is Rodney, he is a Canadian astrophysicist and a smidgen of an eccentric (really not the placid lad I always try to be). _

_We are getting along pretty well; even Stinky, my white lab mouse, likes him, it even seems as if the two of them understand each other's feelings._

_There is only one thing Rodney shouldn't have done: Last week he said medicine were not more a science than voodoo._

_Actually this sort of pissed me off, but for everybody's sake I fought back the comment about Canadians and hockey I had in mind._

_(This doesn't mean Rodney won't get away that easily next time, ooh no...) _

_All, right, that's all for now._

_Love, your favorite and only son, Carson _

_P.S.: Don't forget your walks in the mornings and evenings, they are really good for your circulation._

xxxxx

Rodney giggled and his stomach ache was forgotten.

So Carson found he was an eccentric? Inwardly he pouted still knowing that his voodoo comment was supported by firm evidence. He hadn't thought Carson to be _such_ a petulant kid about certain things...

And how could this golf iron swinging Highlander even think of insulting the holy game?

Wondering what lament would come next, he unfolded another letter.

_Dear Mum, _

_I'm still happy to tell you that all in all your little lad is feeling well around here. _

_But there's one little thing: I do miss your haggis and the great stew. _

_I really wished I had brought the recipes, since the bloody rations here all taste as chemical as they really are and there's not even a little chocolate left to console my stomach because Rodney has already munched everything away in record time._

_And there's yet another problem to solve: even if I'd manage to remember all ingredients: here are bugger no sheep around. (But don't worry, we'll surely find a substitute for them pretty soon...)_

_Sorry this has been so short. I have to check on Rodney now, he had a funny accident an hour ago. _

_(I really wished I could tell you more about it, but you know I can't...) _

_Lots of Love, _

_Carson_

_P.S.: Could you say hi to Darleen for me? I haven't found the time nor the courage to write her, yet. _

xxxxx

Funny accident, huh? Rodney was fuming a now. It hadn't been funny for him at all as he had been hit by this Wraith stunner.

At least now he knew what unimportant things Carson had spent his time with while he himself had been suffering.

This demanded some vengeance. Maybe finding out more about this Darleen could prove useful in planning a little retaliation prank. Quickly Rodney continued to rummage through the heap of letters.

xxxxx

AN: All right, so far with letters to Carson's mum. More diary work to expect next time.


	4. Note 3

AN: Yippee, we're in Highlander Medic! Plus: It's still Highland Game season in bonnie Scotland, yay.

xxxxx

Carson sat up against the bed and crossed his legs, if the entries continued like that, this was going to be a long read. With a pleased sigh he turned over to the next page:

Dear Diary,

really now: this was the crappiest day I ever had since I was persuaded to come here. As we were hunted back through the Stargate by a horde of these repellent Wraith stinkers I, poor scientist that I really am, took a hit from one of their stunners.

But not that I'd only have to spend about four hours in Beckett's infirmary after it, oh no, I was _PARALYZED _all over my itching body I couldn't even _speak_.

And of course Beckett and Sheppard found the whole thing extraordinary funny; none of these ignorants even thought of a little consolation for me, selfish that they are. They could have at least thought of rubbing my stiff, ice-cold feet...

You have to excuse me now, my left foot is itching hell out of me.

Soon, Rodney

(Note to myself: Wear warmer socks in the future, start now.)

xxxxx

Rodney should really stop wailing so much, Carson decided. What was so horrible about being temporarily paralyzed?

He wondered how much the Canadian would have cried when he had been bounced by a grown-up Highland bull, supposedly a whole lot more than he himself had actually done back in his childhood days.

With a compassionate smirk he continued to read:

Dear Diary,

Sergeant Bates is an ass. (Most of the other hoo-ah fellows are pissians, too, but he's definitely the worst one in the entire bunch.)

Did he really _order_ me to search Teyla's personal things? How can he expect me to do that? I'm no brainless drug-sniffle dog (not that I would mind to find something delicate or so...)

But you know what irks me the most? He was _right_ about it. You know how pissed I am when I'm wrong, especially when the affair involves a creep like him or Kavanough...

Note to myself: Find Kavanough and Bates a nice, damp and dark hole on the mainland, where they can spent the rest of their monotonous lives together in harmony, on the next occasion possible.

Poor Teyla, I wished she'd smack Bates right onto his empty head with one of her combat stick for all these accusations he has made against her, though she is completely innocent and didn't know that she was carrying a Wraith transmitter device at all.

All right, that's all for today. See you tomorrow.

Rodney

P.S.: And, no, I won't found a hit-by-a-stunner club with Ford and Sheppard, since they still don't realize how few they've suffered compared to me.

xxxxx

Carson rolled his eyes to the ceiling, perhaps he should really consider setting up a glass of candy for Rodney, to reward him for each time he was a good kid during treatments and didn't wail.

He kept the thought in mind during he continued to study the next day's self-pitying entries.

xxxxx

AN: Okay, that much for this week. CU, _Baalsgirl_


	5. Letter 2

AN: Great y'all like the story. And maybe now you wanna know who Darleen is and why Carson hasn't dared to write her at first...?

xxxxx

_Dear Darleen,_

_Love, I'm really sorry I didn't talk to you for so long. _

_And if you believe it or not, it still bloodily irks me that I couldn't be there for your MD presentation. I'm sure you did really great, (I mean you surely got the A+ ) Congratulations anyway. _

_I hope you are no longer mad at me because I left you that night without telling you where I was going. I think by now my mum has already informed you that I had to go on an international mission to a secret place. _

_I wished I could've told you or even taken you with me (I could've tried if your presentation had been a wee earlier; my team could really use another virology expert with your marks). _

_Honestly now: I'm horribly and bloody lonely without you, honeycake. I want to hug you right now, in case you ever want to hug me again. _

_All right, I'm really sorry to have left you behind. Love you lots._

_Best wishes, your little Carson-cake _

_P.S.: When I return, would you allow me to accompany you to your fling competitions again? There's really no one in the whole world who can fling like you, believe me._

xxxxx

There was a crooked daisy drawn beneath the signature, Rodney stared at it with incomprehension for at least thirty seconds before he put the letter away.

What kind of guy painted daisies under love letters if he knew that they looked clumsy? And who'd deliberately think of complimenting the way a woman _flings_?

_He_ surely didn't, given the fact that he was no Scotsman and had never really felt the urge to write embarrassing stuff like this.

With a frown he unfolded the next paper, strongly expecting to find an even clumsier love poem, letting out a relieved sigh as he didn't, though the content of this letter wasn't much nicer:

xxxxx

_Dear Mum,_

_What happened to me today was against all my ethical beliefs and far beyond the Hippocratic oath. Because of my own and some other people's inconsistency, a lot of people had to pay a high price. (I wished I could tell you more.) _

_It's definitely one of the moments in which I could a big cup of hot chocolate and a huge load of your consoling words. Times like these are when I miss you the most. There's no one who can build me up when I'm down like you can._

_Accordingly my situation without you is bloody crappy right now (please excuse my choice of words). _

_But really: all I'm left to do is smooch Stinky or wait for Rodney to give me some consolation, which is really hard to get, since on this subject he's really more a taker than a giver, it's bloody difficult, I tell you. _

_I have to attend a briefing now. _

_Love, Carson_

_P.S.: I'll try to be a happy lad again soon, so that you won't have to worry. (We both know how that affects your health.) _

xxxxx

Rodney scratched his temple. Did Carson really think him to be a whining kid that needed his consolation all the time? Now he knew which person had just kicked himself out of the possible close confidant's list so that only Dr. Hightmeyer was left on it.

With a sigh he dug deeper into the pile of Carson's personal letters, secretly wondering what would happen if somebody read his diary like this.

xxxxx

AN: If he knew, he has no idea... Hopefully you also liked the sadder letters. CU again soon, _Baalsgirl_


	6. Note 4

Carson brushed across the next page with his fingers. The paper was a little wavy. With a snicker he looked at the date; now he knew what was surely about to come now. He clearly remembered how horribly unpeachy this certain day had been for him.

But how had it felt for a wee drama queen like Rodney?

He'd see:

_Dear Diary,_

_Sorry for throwing my wet socks onto you, I didn't mean to much you up. _

_Hell, I wished I'd no longer be dependent on that stupid tumble dryer Zelenka has decided to McGyver around with for his idiotic experiments._

_(Note to myself: Finally get myself a stupid cloth-line to hang the stuff out.)_

_But why do I have wet socks at all? _

_I was taken HOSTAGE by this goddamned Colya psychopath and his freaky Genii ballet of uniformed bootlickers in this ass-soaking storm that nearly destroyed our precious city because this selfish nit showed up and settled his fat buttocks onto our territory, not letting me WORK in PEACE._

_But that's not all, I deliberately played bullet catcher for Elizabeth (so heroic, come on, you know me) as that asshole threatened to shoot us after Sheppard had threatened him. (The show-off. Why didn't he just shut up and quietly blow these Genii bastards to hell when he got a chance to?)_

_At last the cavalry came to free us in the end and I hit the button to save another day._

_Aw, these were a gruesome couple of days, I need a nap now. _

_Talk to you later, Rodney_

xxxxx

All right, a bundle of nerves, as usual. Rodney definitely needed some days off before he became dangerous the next time things like that would happen; hopefully not too soon.

At least now Carson had found an explanation why said tumble dryer had fried his pajamas last week, he made himself a mental note to procure a cloth-line for his own quarter as well.

With a frown he had a look at the next entry:

_Dear Diary,_

_Here I am again. Just happened to muse about my poor Scottish colleague. He's still lying in infirmary lamenting about his, oh so horrible, headaches._

_Really now, the way he got them is too funny. He wasn't carefully enough and this Genii fighter cat Teyla used to be cross with, knocked him into concussion with one aimed hit._

_As they dragged him back to the control room later on he looked like a caterpillar had rolled right over him._

_Later on he was still so whiny and groggy complaining about every little thing that had happened to him, so that I had to be careful not to get a splitting headache myself as I was forced to assemble a makeshift dressing for my poor, injured arm because monsieur needed a rest._

_All right, that's all for now. Yours, Rodney_

xxxxx

Okay, that was too much for Carson. Next time Rodney was tormented by headaches he'd surely drain his aspirin supply so that he could truly experience how bloody ugly his concussion had felt.

And who said he had been whining? It had just been a smidgen too much for him that Ford had constantly kept telling him to shut up and obey. Rodney would have been pissed as well, but of course he was too self-important to admit it.

The pesky Canadian lad would soon realize that self-importance led him nowhere on the long run, especially not when he pissed off his usually compassionate and open-minded Scottish physician, oh no.

xxxxx

AN: So, some more diary vexation for you. I tried to speed up so I've now used my lesson off to finish this chapter. I'm gonna have lots of fun in my 3.30 economy & politics class, _sigh_.

CU soon, _Baalsgirl_


	7. Letter 3

_Dear Darleen, _

_Slowly I fear that this job will turn out a smidgen more dangerous than I thought._

_I mean have you ever been in need to empty half a packet of aspirins in just one bloody day? I'm sure you didn't, since you would never get **such **a brain-racking headache. _

_How I incurred it? Well, I got smacked onto my skull by some enemy fighter cat lass and because of it suffered from what a certain Rodney McKay (my slightly nutty astrophysicist colleague) later called a 'minor concussion'._

_The lad had no idea how much it hurt, really not. If he had only had a fraction of my headaches he would've wailed like bloody hell on doomsday. (He's a wee sensitive you must know.) _

_God, I wished you would've been here to console me. Sorry to be whining like this once again. _

_Lots of Love, Carson_

xxxxx

Rodney groaned and smacked his forehead with a hand. Holy, it _had _been a _minor _concussion and nothing else. But of course the Highlander had to exaggerate again to prove manhood to his mate:

_He _didn't wail, but mad little Rodney surely would.

That was just too stupid, but perhaps Rodney could use this tactic to win Kate Heightmeyer's admiration, just let Sheppard smack him and then play the tough guy.

He decided to think about it, unfolding another sheet:

_Dear Mum, _

_You were so right. Jobs with the military are just so uncomfortable. This time even the fact that I am non-military personnel didn't help much._

_That pesky little bugger, Lieutenant Aiden Ford (nice kid that he can be) bloody told me to shut up all the time. All right, by this time we were all pretty strained and all, but he could've shown a wee respect for his amiable Scottish physician who saved (and surely will save) his little self several times._

_But no, the lad had to turn outwards his authority although I was only trying to voice some justified concern._

_Luckily we came to friendly terms again some time after it. Though he still claims that I merely got myself a concussion because I was only talking and didn't look out where I was going._

_(He wasn't even around when it happened, the little know-all.)_

_Anyway, the concussion has faded now. You don't have to worry for your favorite and only son any more._

_Love, Carson_

xxxxx

Rodney tittered. So, he had been talking and didn't look out? This could be useful knowledge if Carson tried to tell him that he was doing the same the next time he'd run against a wall. This was just so typically Beckett. He sighed, another letter like this and he'd really start to feel compassion for the poor, always misunderstood Scotsman.

He reached out at picked another letter out of the still huge stack, really enjoying what he was doing.

xxxxx

AN: Thanks for all your reviews. So happy you enjoy this story.

Note to frozensheep: Your English is just fine, don't worry. I had to learn a lot myself (btw I still hate prepositions like hell).


	8. Note 5

Now Carson came along a page that was written even more illegibly than the others. Surely Rodney had written this sometime late at night after his own snoring had woken him up once again. Curiously he continued to read:

_Dear Diary,_

_I just happened to have the worst nightmare I've ever had: I dreamt of these greedy kids from M7G -677 __having eaten up my entire chocolate reserve. It was sooooo horrible and of course I was so scared that I really dug myself into the hiding-out to recount the rest of my Snickers and Power Bar stockpile. Everything was right the way I left it the other day, LUCKILY. Otherwise someone around would've taken the blame, you know me, I don't miss a single chance to accuse Kavanough of things he hasn't really done, nit that he is._

_But, hey, my flight of panic also had a good side, I've finally rediscovered my favorite t-shirt, (the 'I'm with genius' one) I already feared that I had lost it, the precious thing. _

_And guess where it was? I wrapped something even more precious into it: my last five peanut butter - chocolate Power Bars._

_Normally I could've left it like it was, but I've just decided that the shirt could use a little wash, now that I've finally gotten myself a clothesline for my quarters. - I just hope that Radek won't remark the 10 feet of copper cable missing from his last spool. (Toll enough for the life-threatening malfunctions he has caused to the poor tumble dryer...) _

_All right, I'm gonna roll in again now and have some fun with this delightful Kit Kat bar I just happened to dig up._

_Love, Rodney _

_P.S.: Note to myself: Don't believe every stupid nightmare that racks your ingenious brain._

xxxxx

Great, Carson thought. Even in his dreams Rodney was only busied with his insane craving for chocolate. At least now he knew that he had not yet eaten up the city's _entire_ stockpile, so there was still a chance for him to find some of it.

He made himself a mental note to go on a little treasure hunt for it asap, but for now he was busy enough finishing his colleagues highly interesting diary.

xxxxx

AN: Sorry for this being so short, but I wanted to post it before doing my homework and finishing up with the shopping. I'll try to post more next time.

Thank you so much for all your reviews. I'm so happy you like the story.


	9. Letter 4

Okay, I'm back with some more "Note to Myself". Sorry I kept you waiting for so long, had to take some ugly exams.

But I had nough time to find out that Rodney is my physics teacher's evil twin. (They move exactly the same way and sometimes say 'bout the same nice things...)

xxxxx

_Dear Mum,_

_Do you have an idea where I've put the sticking plaster? I mean I could bloody well use it just now. _

_It's that here's recently a whole bunch of people talking rubbish with me. Bad enough, but this time it doesn't only include Rodney .One of my charming subordinates has joined him on that matter. And now I'm tormented by bugger nasty headaches because of these two pesky pains in my aching neck.._

_You know what? I want go home to you. Obviously you're the only one who is really capable of pleasant conversation. _

_Plus, I bloody miss the wee butter cookies (the ones with the almonds) we used to have for tea. Really now, I've got the strange feeling that Stinky wants to nibble some of them, too._

_What I want to say with it is that the two of us, Stinky and me, we really bloody miss you, mom._

_Lots of love, wee Carson_

_P.S.: Water your petunia for me. _

xxxxx

_Stinky_ and me! Slowly Carson had to be going nuts... Rodney played with the thought of arranging a group therapy appointment with Dr Hightmeyer for his nutty Scottish colleague together with his spoiled little lab rat.

How could feed the poor animal cookies? Rodney remember how he himself had once killed a hamster that way... evil thing.

And who was talking rubbish? All Rodney had tried to do was to broaden the Highlander's limited horizon by making the glorious field of astrophysics more accessible to him. That was just so _typically_ Carson complaining about stuff that was too high for him...

With a disapproving grunt Rodney had a look at the next letter. It was to this mysterious Darleen person again, complaining on exactly the same matter...

_Dear Darleen,_

_Love, may I ask you something? Do you remember Dr Carol Biro? (You were on that meeting, too, weren't you?) _

_Anyway the lass has got such a bloody godless trap, chit-chatting all day long, I've already got headaches from her and her bugger funny humor._

_(I mean how would you like a whole bunch of bugger lame jokes on brain aneurysms?) See, she even makes me so bugger edgy that I can't stop saying 'bugger' all the time..._

_Darling I'm sorry, but I wished you could be here to replace her. It would make it a bloody lot easier for me to set up the rosters. _

_Why? Well, of course I can try and give Biro later shifts so that I don't have to see her, but when she's on duty till late she's even more bloody bubbly the next day. _

_And if I take on a later shift Rodney, who's deadly afraid of her, will surely show up to bug me with something unimportant and gab twice as much as her in that penetrating voice of his. _

_And that all really doesn't make my headaches any better... _

_Honestly, it's a bloody vicious circle I'm in with that woman. I wished you could assist me on that matter._

_I miss you, lassie. Kisses, Carson_

xxxxx

Penetrating voice? The pesky Scotsman should better be careful or _he _would soon become victim of a sticking plaster attack.

Or did he really think his ridiculous accent was much easier to stand? The guy had no fair idea of what a noise pollution _he _was.

Surely another point to add to his vendetta list. Sighing Rodney unfolded the next letter, hoping for something less whining to read.

xxxxx

AN: Okay, so much on poor Carol. Anybody remember her at all?


	10. Note 6

Sighing Carson turned over to read the next page:

_Dear Diary,_

_Today was HORRIBLE. A stupid virus has ripped away many valuable members of my team. And worst of all: it has killed **Dumais**. _

_God, she was so talented and one day she could've become my 2IC! (Besides now I can't land with her anymore. Such a cute girl, even though she wasn't at all blonde... it's a shame.)_

_But that isn't all. Nearly that nasty nano virus piece of crap had set an end to my highly valuable life as well. And I was so fully aware of it, I thought my heart would stop. But then, finally the Ancient gene saved my worthy butt. (In-vul-ne-ra-ble again, hehe.) _

_Note to myself: If Radek should ever dare to interrupt my last thoughts again, shoot him._

_And still I don't get why things have become so ugly in the end. I mean the day has started so perfectly... I even proved that Ford is too stupid for simple math. (Come on, 993 as a prime number, he can't be serious.) _

_Note to myself: Get the poor nit kid a calculator to play with. _

_So much about my highly awful day. I need to roll in now. _

_Your miserable friend, Rodney_

xxxxx

Carson chewed his lip. One thing was for sure now: When it came to worsening already more than awful things, Rodney was the whining champion.

That day had been bad enough for all of them, that was for sure. But the fact that Ford...

Carson chuckled. And he had always thought the lad to be halfway intelligent. The next time he'd get cheeky with him again, this information could prove very useful...

He went on to the next entry, surprised that it seemed to reflect his own thoughts:

_Dear Diary,_

_It's me again. I can't sleep. And you know the reason? I just dreamt of Dr Biro! Really, that woman can wreak havoc to already wretched nerves._

_I mean it's so obvious why she has to be a pathologist, she's a running cliche. Plus: I'm not hot on meeting her in the dark somewhere. Waah, since today she really makes me shiver. _

_All right, now. I'll go and try to nap again. See you tomorrow._

_Love, Rodney_

_(Note to myself: How about trying to make a match between Kavanough and the charming lady?) _

xxxxx

AN: You're damn right. Normally pathologists are quite normal people.

And well, to me Biro looks like the extreme version of Ducky Mallard in a way. (You know him? He's the charismatic Scottish pathologist from "Navy CIS". )


	11. Letter 5

AN: About Ducky again: Well, as far as I know he has studied at the Edinburgh Medical College (I think it was in one of the Ari episodes he first mentioned it) also he's golf-crazed, as we all know.

Has something Scottish for me altogether...

But I don't think he _really_ has a brogue, has he? In the few non-dubbed things I've seen so far.., well I'm not that sure about it anymore.

xxxxx

_Dear Mum,_

_I'm sorry to tell you, but I think my granny fixation has just returned. Now, don't worry, it's not as worse as the time after Granny died when I was little._

_I mean there recently _was_ an incident that brought it all back just as bloody badly. I mean I met a lass, I really wished I could tell you more about her, she was soooo much older than me. (I'm not exaggerating!)_

_And, well, she tried to reassure me in everything I did in such a bloody charming way. At times I wanted to get to my knees and revere her. (Don't be jealous now. I'll do the same for you next Mother's Day, promised.)_

_And sometimes she reminded me of Granny so badly, that I just sat there and sighed for a bloody long time._

_This'll stay a bugger in my head for awhile, I tell you. But at least there are not many elderly people around here I could run to and call "Granny", so nobody will find out. _

_You remember the last time I did very well, don't you? I must've been about four by then... That surely was a hard time for you. Sorry again for it._

_Anyway I'm just happy that Lieutenant Ford hasn't got such a horrible fixation, the bairn. He had to call _me_ grandpa, then. _

_I'll write again, soon. _

_Love, Carson._

xxxxx

Rodney shook his head with disbelief. _Carson Beckett_ had a granny fixation! That surely was the revelation of the year. All right, he had always thought him to be a little babyish in some respect, but that was worse than his personal fixation for blondes with brains.

Smirking he pictured Carson running to Dr Weir with big, wet eyes, calling her Granny, as he pulled out a small letter that looked different from the others and it surely was, Rodney nearly broke down as he read it:

_Dear Rodney,_

_When you'll be reading this, I'll have taken a Mars bar from your private stock. _

_Let's say it's kind of a forfeit for the three KitKat bars you have _accidentally_ snatched from me some time ago, You can get it back... if you're quick enough, but, well I don't really think so. The temptation is just too bloody big. Consider it eaten by now. _

_If you can't stand the craving for revenge, please go crack Sheppard's reserves. I know from a safe source that he still possesses a pretty big stockpile of Power Bars and Snickers, hidden somewhere in the jumper hangar._

_Regards, Carson _

_P.S.: No, you're _not _becoming hypoglycemic now!_

xxxxx

Frigging Highlander!

Rodney was about to jump up and check his secret stock, but the realized that Carson had only pre-written this notice. And though, he swore that if he was ever to find out about the Scotsman having decimated his chocolate reserves, _all_ the remaining KitKat bars under the loose floor tile would soon be gone.

xxxxx

AN: Thanks for your attention. I think I'm going to do some special chapters for you in return, one surely to come out around Halloween.

How would y'all like that?


	12. Halloween Special

AN: October 31st, 2005. Happy Halloween to all of you! And here's the special I promised you:

xxxxx

_Dear Diary,_

_What's so wrong about being nothing for Halloween? I mean Sheppard made so much of a drama out of this simple fact, it's so incredibly childish:_

"_Rodney", he said, building up in front of me wearing this stupid OJ Simpson football combo, "How can you possibly be nothing! You're being a real spoilsport once again."_

_You can imagine how much this out-of-place accusation pissed me off, can't you? But, well, I can stick up for myself, especially on Halloween. Here's what I replied:_

"_Listen, Sheppard", I told him boldly, "being nothing is still more imaginative than having been OJ Simpson every year since middle school."_

_He didn't like that I think, because he ran off looking pretty sour. I'm sure he'll be thinking of a boyish prank to pull on me tonight by now._

_But that's nothing compared to the way Carson has planned for himself to get ridiculed today. Our nutty physician has really dared to dig his kilt from the depths of his messy Scottish closet, not to mention that strange wooly hat of the same pattern he is so proud of._

_As I asked him what this craze was all about he told me that he was Tam O'Shanter for the day. _

_Now who is this guy? Another Highland super hero in a checked skirt who can toss a tree trunk from Loch Ness to the moon and back?_

_I really don't want to know, but what I definitely know is that Carson has absolutely no idea about how to iron decent pleats into this fancy little rag of his._

_Anyway, enough of the complaints for now. I have to go, only because it's Halloween, work doesn't sleep today._

_Regards, Rodney _

-

-

**Pleats?** Agitated Carson chewed his lip. His much-loved kilt was not supposed to have **pleats**! This was about the worst insult he had heard about his Halloween costume. Rodney would have to pay for it the next time he showed up somewhere near his infirmary...

xxxxx

Was that a jack-o-lantern drawn on that letter! Quickly Rodney snatched the paper and began to read:

_Dear Darleen,_

_What is so wrong about being Tam O'Shanter for Halloween? Somehow most of my colleagues had no idea what to make of it._

_Especially nice about it were Major Sheppard and Rodney: The major said I looked like some kind of big, Scottish hobbit in socks. (And that from him in his obligatory OJ Simpson outfit he already wore on the last sports night.)_

_And Rodney nearly choked from his coffee in a somewhat theatrical manner as he caught sight of me, it wasn't really the nicest thing to do, especially since he costumed himself as bloody nothing... _

_This demands vengeance! And I won't wait any longer than tonight with it; these cheeky buggers shan't think that the great Tam O'Shanter lets them get away without scolding!_

_I have to stop now, Dr Biro needs some help with her fairy costume._

_Love, Carson_

_P.S.: I bet you dressed yourself as an angel today, right?_

xxxxx

_Dear Diary,_

_I can't believe Sheppard has brought to life such a nuisance! Why in hell has he taught those pesky Athosian kids how to trick-or-treat? He even equipped them with shaving foam and toothpaste!_

_You can imagine how the area around my door looks by now... And all that only because my name isn't Elizabeth or Teyla and I haven't made any cookies for them. _

_Or do they really expect me to give away the puny remnants of my strongly decimated chocolate stock? Forget it!_

_What's even worse is that Elizabeth has talked me into attending the stupid Halloween party tonight and Radek had the infamous idea I could go as the great Wayne Gretzky, just to tease Football Sheppard. I told him I'd do it, as long as he himself would be my personal cheerleader..._

_So, now I'm going as myself in a lab coat; fair enough! _

_I have to go to the freak show, now. Later, Rodney_

_P.S.: Note to myself: How about putting Carson's kilt down the toilet along with his stupid hat?_

-

-

Carson grumbled, if Rodney would dare to even touch any of it, he would decapitate him with his own hands. The bloody philistine!

xxxxx

Another Halloween letter! Greedily Rodney grabbed it, eager to read more about Carson desperately trying to justify himself being Tam O'Shanter:

_Dear Mum,_

_Surely you're pleased to hear that I've decided to be Tam O'Shanter for Halloween this year. _

_But there's one thing I really miss today. Your great, delicious pumpkin soup and that homemade shortbread of yours._

_I'd really love to change with the wee neighborhood bairn tonight. Firstly they get your infamous shortbread and secondly they don't need a justification to be Tam O'Shanter. _

_Where I am now, it even seems as if some people would be more understanding if I dressed as a bloody sheep tonight.. it's not fair!_

_Anyway I wish you a great night with your bridge ladies. I have to attend the party now. Tell you everything about it next time._

_Lots of Love, _

_Carson Tam O'Shanter Beckett _

-

-

A sheep, Rodney mused, now that would do the job for the Highlander, it'd even give him something fluffy for a change...

Sighing he re-folded the letter and shoved it back into the pile.

xxxxx

AN: It's a pity none of you goes to my school. You missed this whole bunch of guys showing up this Friday wearing their kilts; that was much scarier than Halloween!


	13. Note7 & Letter 6

Note to Myself, Chapter 13

Dedications: To KC who finally survived her exams. Congratulations!

AN: Not all kilts have pleats, honestly. I've only seen some that have and mostly only in one place... And, yes, I hope Paul McGillion has nice knees, too.

xxxxx

Carson snorted as he turned over, away from Rodney's insulting Halloween escapades and realized that now some other people had landed themselves in his colleague's lamentation focus:

_Dear Diary,_

_Who said I were in LOVE! Are they all still hung over from that ridiculous Halloween booze party or what? _

_I mean imagine this conspiring bunch of Sheppard, Ford and Teyla sitting together finding these highly important totally funny while the ingenious Aidena and me try to work._

_But as always that's not all: As I was of to bed just now, Sheppard smirked at me in this absolutely stupid manner of his, asking if I didn't realize Aidena being hot on me._

_As you can imagine he caught poor me totally off guard with this childish question. And of course his other two party animals across the table had a great time chuckling their heads off at it._

_Do you have an idea why they always try to pull my leg? Well, I really don't, it's just annoying._

_I desperately need to roll in now. Later, Rodney_

xxxxx

Carson slapped his forehead. Rodney desperately needed a bloody can of humor. And he could've told him that he had met somebody, maybe he could've provided him with some wee flirtation tips, since it was an understatement that with his lack of social behavior he would never really get a girl to like him for long.

Quickly he began to read the next entry and realized that he was right:

_Dear Diary,_

_Sorry for pawing all over you, but I can't see more than contours right now. _

_Why couldn't I just shut my trap? Now Sheppard is cross with me, since he thinks it's my fault that we didn't get the ZedPM._

_I wouldn't admit it in front of him, but he's probably right. Why did I blurt out with us not being native to Atlantis? All right, I know it: I'm a terrible liar, that's all._

_To be honest: This entire day was crap, it started when I ran into that stone wall after getting up and didn't get any better as that repellent Kolya guy showed up again, wanting us to get him OUR ZPM._

_Oh my god, I hate him, hate him, HATE him. (Though I think I did a brave job negotiating with him, though Sheppard wanted me to shut up; bold me.)_

_Note to Myself: Find myself more opportunities to show Sheppard that he's actually pretty clueless, though he passed the MENSA test._

_The only "good" idea he actually had was firing these tremendous flash grenades. I still can't **see **a single thing. So, if you want to blame somebody for fatty fingerprints you should choose Sheppard._

_But you don't know today's highlight, yet: Three fat Wraith hive ships are headed for the city. Looks as if we've got a fair chance to get all life sucked from us... Let's not talk about it._

_Regards, your favorite blind fish, Rodney_

xxxxx

Blind fish, that somewhat explained how Rodney had been behaving after the flash had hit him:

Pawing all over him, before turning his infirmary into a bloody mess, believing that he would stay blind forever. Still Carson was sure that he only wanted to distract himself from the Wraith ships approaching Atlantis.

Snickering the Scotsman remembered how he had distracted his own self by writing an angry letter to his friend Darleen:

_Dear Darleen,_

_Why is it that Sergeant Bates, our charming security chief, always has to yell at me like that? He is a pesky little bugger, even more than bloody Aiden Ford._

_This time we had a cat fight about me flying one of those puddle jumpers. I told him that I was a physician and no bloody fighter pilot, but noooo, he **had** to talk me into this._

_And then, as we were aboard he tried to be reassuring! My god, he's so bloody bad at it... All he achieved with it was bugger nothing (only that I'll do the same to him, next he shows up around here...)_

_Perhaps I could say something like, "Och, poor Sergeant, is that wee needle too big for your sensitive bum?" What do you think? _

_I need to stop writing now, work calls. Love, Carson_

xxxxx

Rodney almost let out a cheerful squeak. This time he had to agree with the Highland drama queen, Bates definitely was a big pain in the neck, he desperately needed a nice, mischievous kick into his fat _Hoo-ah_ butt.

xxxxx

All right, thank you for reading, people. I'll try to update soon, just give me two or three more weeks for my exams.

Thankies, _Baalsgirl_

And, Lou, I'm sort of flattered. There's nothing wrong with it, really. Merci beaucoup. ;-)


	14. Xmas Special

AN: Whoo, exams are over - for now. And it's almost Christmas. Time for another special.

(I'll be dealing with "The Siege" later on, since I'm still waiting to watch Part III, won't take too long, I

hope.)

xxxxx

"What the...?"

A handmade envelope, checked red-green and decorated with paper mistletoes suddenly slid out of the heap, right into Rodney's lap.

Giggling he snatched the slip of paper inside, eyeing it curiously for a moment. As expected there was another of Carson's mediocre naive drawings on it: this time it was a huge reindeer, pulling a much too small sleigh. But that was nothing compared to the written part:

_Dear Mum,_

_Merry Christmas to you and everyone else at home. _

_I'm really happy to tell you that I've already unpacked the decoration stuff you gave me. And, well, put together with the Christmas items my staff brought in infirmary now looks very much like Christmas. Dr Biro seems to find it all kind of romantic, by the way._

_Unfortunately the decoration doesn't make everyone that happy. Rodney even seems a tad scared of it; for every time he gets near the mistletoe he practically throws himself out of its way. Probably he's afraid someone would smooch him. _

_I don't have that kind of problem; as CMO I can choose who's allowed to kiss me in my infirmary and who bloody well isn't.  
_

_I'd also like to thank you for giving me this great gingerbread baking mix. Teyla and Dr Zelenka assisted me in making a wee house out of it._

_I found this really nice, especially of our Czech engineer who had been busy all day fixing together an animated Christmas tree for our rec room out of a video recorder and some metal parts. _

_But there's one wee problem: The gingerbread house make me so bloody hungry when I look at it, since I have no other Christmas munchies to nibble at. I wished I had some brown cookies and shortbread to make myself a smidgen happier._

_For my luck Teyla and Rodney (him of all people! I have no fair idea what in hell made him do it) are currently in the kitchen preparing a big load of almond chocolate cookies for all of us._

_So much about our Christmas. How about yours? I hope you're not too lonely, enjoying yourself by the fireside. But be so good and take care of your cholesterol level, hear?_

_Lots of Love, Carson_

_P.S.: I hope you like the envelope I've made for you, it wasn't easy. ;-) _

xxxxx

Rodney snorted. At least now he knew why Dr Biro had eyed him in such a craving way, as he had neared that frigging mistletoe.

xxxxx

Carson shook the diary. Had that just been gingerbread crumbs! Eagerly he flipped the pages to find the spot where they had come from.

There it was, holding just the Christmas laments he had expected from Rodney:

_Dear Diary,_

_A used ZedPM is no decoration for a Christmas tree, especially not when it's my personal paperweight; painting crooked stars on it with a marker _doesn't_ change that! _

_I mean, what would Sheppard say if I made Easter eggs out of his stupid football collection? _

_Why the hell does Christmas always make people so ridiculously creative?_

_Sheppard's ingenious fit of creativity is still nothing compared to what Dr Kusanagi did to me: She placed this stupid mistletoe over the lab entrance. And of course I ran into her right there and she demanded from me to **kiss** her, wah, I wished she'd run into Kavanough instead of me._

_Where the toe is now? Well, I've hung it up over Kavanough's door (just in case...). _

_That's not all! The Highlander has found a way to scare the willies out of my poor self: The whole infirmary is full of Christmas decoration. _

_Candles, crystal balls, stars, a big advent wreath hanging from the ceiling, a ridiculous gingerbread house on Carson's desk and a MISTLETOE in the aisle. _

_At least I've managed to jump out of its way till now. But honestly: Who would deliberately smooch Dr Biro? I definitely don't. I'm not so sure about Carson, though... (Let's better not think about it!)_

_You're asking if Zelenka has been creative, too? Oh yes, the human screwdriver has been alone with his tool box five minutes too long and has somehow screwed together a Christmas tree. _

_Note to Myself: Cynically ask Sheppard if he misses something. (I don't think he'll ever get back his chopper models and his personal VCR in one piece, though.)_

_Well, enough creative news for now. I have to go, Teyla has talked me into showing her how to make real Christmas cookies. Me of all people, I feel like I've lost a bet! Actually I did lose one, though..._

_Best wishes and Merry Xmas, Rodney_

_P.S.: There's only one good thing about Christmas: the munchies!_

xxxxx

Munchies? Carson's stomach growled, they'd be the right thing just now. Frowning he pondered where he had put the remnants of the gingerbread house and wondered what he could do to get Rodney back into the kitchen to make him some more of those delicious Christmas cookies. Maybe another wee bet could do the job...

xxxxx

Oh, now that's interesting. So you're practically a kilt insider, no? I still have to laugh when the picture of the quick turn gets into my head.

Know what? I don't think the Highland rockers in my grade have no good idea how to iron their kilts properly.

(I'm planning to get myself a nice Tam O'Shanter by the way - I want to keep competitive ;-) .)

**Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all of you! **

_Love, Baalsgirl_


	15. Letters 7, 8 & Note 8

AN: Thanks for all your reviews. As promised I'm now back to business, continuing the ramble and rattle about second season.

Have fun.

xxxxx

Slowly Rodney recovered from the shocking impact Carson's handmade Christmas cards had had on him. He sank back against the wall and grabbed a letter further from the top of the stack:

_Dear Mum,_

_Now that I'm back to work the first thing I do is write you. Somehow things around here have become a smidgen more stressy than they used to be. I think it all started with our trip back here that was actually bloody creepy if you ask me, but nothing for you to worry about._

_It's hard enough to get the new personnel settled in, but of course some people don't really care about that:_

_Rodney has been tormenting me with his sunburnt nose for two days now. He's so much like a wee, wailing bairn. If I ever hear him utter the words "My nose is peeling" again I think I'll bloody well loose it._

_And Dr Biro hasn't been much of a help during my absence, either. I'll never ever leave my desk to her again, that's for sure. You want to know why? She has constantly been filing her nails and hasn't cleaned away all the muck she's left behind. (By the way I'm still missing my hole-puncher...)_

_So, I think I've complained enough._

_Hopefully you don't miss me too much. It's a pity that I've forgotten to take all these letters back home with me, though I'll surely bring them along next time, so then you won't have any reason to feel lonely._

_Lots of Love, your son Carson._

Oh, great, Rodney thought. Somehow Carson was being a softy again. He was unnerved because of his poor, horribly hurting, burnt nose and that after the courageous McKay had probably saved his sensitive Scottish behind from a cold death in space.

Grumbling he fished for the next folded paper in his reach...

xxxxx

Meanwhile Carson had made himself comfortable on Rodney's bed, flipping to the next diary entry.

_Dear Diary,_

_Dang, what a flight back here! First of all a stupid Wraith virus infested the Daedalus's computers threatening to finish us all, then Sheppard and me flew damn close to the corona of a sun saving our people's butts. And Sheppard really told me that I did a good job. I think he was referring to me not completely freaking out because of this horrid flight style of his. I wanted to show him how it really works, but he wouldn't let me, the little show-off..._

_Oh, and, yeah, I've burnt my nose. It's still peeling as hell, so, sorry if I completely soil you with falling skin flakes. If you want to complain please go and see a certain Scottish doctor whose moisturizer isn't working well enough. _

_But know what? I think I've made an interesting acquaintance. That little Asgard that's working in the Daedalus's engine room, called Hermiod I think. We seem to share the same ideas about crappy situations and happen to have the same humor. (Otherwise I'd become cynical as well if I had to spend my days alone with Dr Novak and her hiccups, even as an Asgard...)_

_Well, I think that's it for now, got to go, show some of the new guys who's the boss in the lab . _

_Yours, Rodney _

_P.S.: Note to myself: I should really look for my sun cream before I fry my sensitive skin like that again._

Carson chewed his lip. What was so wrong about the moisturizer? Everybody was fine with it, but of course baby Rodney needed something else. Perhaps next time he should pour a jug of maple syrup over his next sorry sunburn.

xxxxx

_Dear Darleen,_

_Sorry I'm gone again and didn't take you with me. I hope you're no too mad at me, but there was no way. Otherwise you'd be happy not to be around right now. I'm only unnerved at the moment. Nobody's listening to me, not talking about their not following medical orders. In other words: I'm bloody being shoed around, it's like "Carson this, Carson that" all the time. Really who am I, their personal nurse or their CMO? _

_Besides I'm feeling kind of less qualified toward all the others that are around my infirmary right now. I know you said that I'm wrong, but I just can't help it._

_Looks like I've got to get back to work right now, wee Rodney is yelling for his lotion again, the weakling. _

_See you soon. Kisses, Carson_

_P.S.: Sorry I forgot to bring you all the things I've written to you in the past year. You'll get an even bigger pile when I come home next time. _

So he was really fixed on riding around on the sunburn affair, huh? That was not very nice of him. Actually reason enough for a little aftermath. Rodney was really looking forward to that...

xxxxx

AN: I think that's it for the moment. More soon. Don't know how you feel about it, but I'm really into the way little Hermiod curses, it's cute somehow.

See you, Baalsgirl )


	16. Note & Letter 9

A/N: Sorry for the short delay. Oh, and, Kc, actually I was gonna come back to that sun thing for a bit... ;-)

xxxxx

_I wonder if he's coming back to his bloody peeling nose again... _Carson turned the page and read the next entry:

_Dear Diary,_

_ Once again **in weeks (!)** I got fried by solar radiation. I'm so lucky I have my SPF 100 creme with me. (Note to Myself: Next time try one that doesn't produce such incredibly stinky, toxic fumes...) _

_And somehow nobody except for me, seemed to care about that planet's LETHAL radiation levels. Especially not that Major Lorne guy. He seems to be some exaggerated version of Sheppard; so he'll probably never learn that this stupid genius joke isn't **FUNNY **anymore. Well at least he got shot for it... _

_ But that was not the worst part of my day: First of all Aiden Ford showed up again (poor, sucked kid, really) eager to prove me that he's okay. And for that I ran through the goddamned forest with him for hours on end. (Sorry, boy, you can do what you want, but you're really out of your mind...) _

_Oh, and well, then I became a little heroic and -shot- him. That really screwed my day. I ended up screaming and running for my life until I stepped into some INGENIOUS trap and ended up dangling from a tree like some stupid ape. _

_ And of course things got even more worse! Ford had an urge to kill me because of the shooting thing (didn't think he'd be such a wailing weakling about it, though...). Then, as he was about to do so he got run over by some big, creepy-looking heap of muscles. He was the one who finally got me down after laughing his braids off at my misery. It's not at all fair! _ _ Anyway that guy is here with us in Atlantis now. He goes by the name Ronan and though he's saved my behind I still don't want to meet him in the dark. _

_By the way dark, I think that's it for now. Man, I'm soooo tired, got to take a nap. _

_See you. Your poor radiation victim, Rodney. _

_P.S.: And of course it is so great that Sheppard got promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. I should really immunize myself against stupid, military in-crowd gags!_

--- 

All right, this one had been a real toughie. Carson wondered how one single person could wail that much. If he got a penny for every time Rodney lamented about something... he probably wouldn't be here, but in a cozy, little ultra-Caledonian castle, sitting on his millions.

But not that he himself hadn't had a hard time on this certain mission, too... 

xxxxx

_Dear Darleen, _

_Next time somebody forces me to play mobile OR, would you please remind me to kick this person? _

_I think what has happened to me today was the perfect example of how much everybody thinks me to be the bloody fire brigade. The situation was like this: _

_Elizabeth came in saying, "Carson I need you to perform an operation on an armed man who is holding Teyla hostage, oh, and, yeah the Wraith are to show up any minute..." _

_Hello? Excuse me? Who do y'all think I am? George Clooney? Err, wrong, I'm not. I'm just the poor Scottish physician who says "Aye" to everything. _

_ And then there was Colonel Sheppard, reassuring as usual. He didn't flinch to send me in unarmed (not completely, but tranquilizers just don't count), after comparing me to Androkles, the cheeky bugger. Do you know Androkles? He's the nitwit that pulled out a thorn from a lion's paw... What does Sheppard know about Greek fables, anyway? _

Not enough with that, my patient was a grumpy, bloody creepy lad who was armed to the teeth. Do I have to mention that he didn't follow any of my medical orders, now? That's so bloody typical, nobody cares for me, though I'm the one doing the dirty work for them, wanting all their best. But no, it's more important to point one's gun at an innocent lass while you're in grave danger to bleed to death or worse.

_What happened to the world where doctors used to be semi-gods in white? _

_Aw, looks like I've been lamenting too much again. I'm so bloody sorry, lassie. Maybe it's better for me to stop now. _

_   
Love, Carson _

---

Did Carson really just write that? Semi-gods in white! How about voodoo priests with a thick brogue? Not that he was a bad doctor, but there's no need to be heroic about anything, here. 

And, yes, he was definitely no George Clooney, more the fluffy Highland version of Gonzo.

Smirking Rodney slipped backwards against Carson's desk until he bumped his head at its edge.

_Yaw! _Perhaps his last comparison had been a little over the top. But who cared? Contently Rodney put the letter aside and looked for the next one.

xxxxx 

A/N: So that's it for now. See y'all in two weeks, after my little Easter vacation. Thanks for r&r'ing.

All the best,_ Baalsgirl _


	17. Notes & Letters 1011

A/N: Sorry that it's been such a long time. Somehow I lost track of the DVD releases But now that they're finally airing S2 on TV where I live there's a good chance that won't be my only post this month...

xxxxx

Carson turned to the next page smiling quietly to himself as he discovered a different but familiar handwriting on it.

_Dear Rodney,_

_So, you're having a diary? I hadn't thought a guy with such a disorganized mind like yours would, but anyway. _

_I hope you don't mind that I'll borrow your body for awhile, now that you're asleep. We (or better your buttocks) definitely need a work-out. I mean really, if you'd work out more you wouldn't need to sleep on such a stupid mattress._

_That's all I wanted to tell you. Yours, Laura_

_PS: Having read everything you put down here I feel compelled to tell you that I neither have a brush cut, nor am I a 'hoorah butt'. Man, Carson is WAY more sensible than you are._

_---_

_Dear Diary,_

_Looks like we've been COMPROMISED. I can't believe it! That woman has actually read all I told you in confident. _

_Well, at least she tried to help me to get closer to my sweet Katie. (Though she got me drunk in the process...)_

_But for that again she used me to kiss Carson. Can you imagine that? The Highlander, of all people! _

_Okay, it didn't taste that bad after all. A bit like chicken. And luckily Carson makes a point on brushing his teeth. I don't want to know what had happened if she had a crush on Ronon instead. Well, let's better not talk about it..._

_To get back on my Katie again. She's nice and delicate a person. Because of her I don't have any more interest in Mrs. Couple's Therapist. Yes, Kate, I'm talking about you! I don't know what qualified you for this expedition._

_Close your eyes and try to relax, blah, blah, blah. I'm a **VERY BUSY** man for heaven's sake._

_Note to Myself: Find out if there's bickering about Laura and me on the next girl's poker night and if so decapitate some people..._

_Well, right now I feel beyond beaten. I need a nap on my very nice surgical mattress to relax from my time with a hoorah butt. _

_See you tomorrow. Best, your friend Rodney._

---

Carson sighed. Judging from what he had just read Laura and Rodney would never be real friends. At least so he had her for himself...

xxxxx

_Dear Laura,_

_Lassie, I'm so sorry for what has happened to you last week. I'm so glad that you got your own body back in the end. _

_To be honest, you look way more lovely in it than you did confined to Rodney's body. Not that he isn't a poor lad, too, but he just can't beat your delicacy and beauty. Oh, and he just can't kiss properly._

_I'm writing you this not only to tell you I'm sorry, but also to thank you for saving me from the Wraith beam on the planet. I really don't want to know what would've bloody happened if all three of us would've been stuck inside Rodney's head... Let's better not think about it._

_Love and kisses, Carson_

xxxxx

Rodney snorted. He wouldn't dare thinking about that either. Perhaps with Bones in his head he'd even started to speak with a brogue. Yikes, that would've been a scandal.

Slowly he turned the ridiculous pink sheet over and found a blue post-it on it's back:

_Dear Mom,_

_I think I'm in love. Please give me some helpful advice. She's such a pretty, self-conscious lass and I feel a little insecure when I'm talking to her. I wished you could be here to help me._

_Yours, Carson_

Laughing Rodney put the letter away again. Maybe this little trouble was a case that wouldn't overtax Kate Heightmeyer after all...


	18. Note 12

A/N: Again, thank you all for reading and commenting. And, well, perhaps Laura is not -that- self-conscious, but then again she is self-conscious the Marine way ...

xxxxx

Carson flicked to the next double page of the diary just to find a real short-story scribbled all over it. Aye, this was going to take a while to work through, a bloody long while. But he was sure the entry was at least a bit exciting for a change...

-----

_Dear Diary,_

_The last 36 hours were a really scary trip to low-tech **hell**. Okay, here's the whole frigging story, just for you:_

_It all started with us going through the gate to explore a new planet. At first we thought it was uninhabited, but then we found a colony of stinky, grimy, primitive guys bombing us with their slingshots. _

_Anyway, as we later found out this place was a prison island for an oh-so-advanced culture living on the mainland, who had intelligently dumped their bad guys right there near the Stargate to serve the Wraith as finger-food. _

_Yikes, that punishment is almost as ugly as the slimy magistrate governing the place. That guy had a long tail of mucus dribbling all around him whenever he spoke: _

_Jabber, jabber, jabber... sooo pleased to meet us... jabber, jabber ... so advanced a culture ... oh so welcome on his nice planet ... blah, blah, blah... _

_Oh, now that we are on the subject of politicians: Have I ever told you of my aunt who was a doppelganger of Maggie Thatcher? She was very hairy and needed to shave twice a day..._

_Well, where did I stop? Ah, right... I was just telling this enlightening story about said auntie as I was impolitely interrupted by these goddamned prisoners shooting us out of the sky with their DIY coconut bombs._

_And hell, in that fat crash landing (not one of Sheppard's 'better' landings, by the way) I CHIPPED MY TOOTH and NOBODY CARED. Luckily I have a good dental insurance back home, and that's all left to comfort me in sad moments like this._

_But that was not the worst event of the day. Oh no, those prisoners took us prisoner and their semi-wise mass-murdering leader started to pick on me. He needed our jumper to 'take a trip to the city' and I 'seemed intelligent' and so he wanted me to repair it for him which, of course, was absolutely **impossible**. _

_But tell that to a thug... As I did so he almost blew my head off and told me that I was LYING and that he would KILL MY FRIENDS if I refused. And on the other hand he bombarded me with compliments about my 'hidden potential'. Hello, who did this guy think he was? SIGMUND FREUD? Oh, please..._

_Oh, and then I met that stuttering guy with the stupid hat, who had mixed the explosives for those guys. He was supposed to help me, but instead he kept on gabbing away about his miserable life and pulled out crystals from their sockets making any progress nearly **impossible**. _

_But at least he was nice enough to free the rest of the team with Ronon almost turning him into chop suey... _

_I can't help but wonder what happens when this Eldon guy makes friends with Radek. They would possibly blow us all to smithereens with their assembled explosives collection... (Okay, let's not think about it.) _

_And, well, I then tried to repair the jumper's DHD so that we could attempt an escape on foot before the Wraith would come and suck on us. But as usual people were disturbing me with their extra wishes. I should really open a shop when I get back to Earth:_

"_Welcome to McGyver's, what can I do for you? Ah, you need a washing machine that flies you to the moon... no problem. Anything else? A burger, coffee, donuts..."_

_**Who the heck do they think I am ? **_

_Well, luckily Elizabeth and that Sheppard-lookalike Major Lorne got us and the cons out on time, practically serving the slimy magistrate and his people to the Wraith on a silver platter now that the island was deserted..._

_So, I think that's it. About time I stop writing before I fill all your precious pages with senseless chatter._

_Thanks again for listening,_

_All the best, Rodney_

_PS: Again I need to complain about Ronon's manners. Not only that he's a nitwit. Oh no, he also eats from alien kettles. And, really, couldn't that be the reason for the baddies noticing us at all?_

_And he isn't very hygienic either; dribbling his blood on the floor after getting shot with an arrow, refusing to get it plastered until Teyla comes to sweet-talk him. He really could've fit in with those Braveheart actors down on that prison island just fine. Really, that big guy is beyond my comprehension..._

-----

Oh man, seldom Carson had seen so much jabber jumbled in one place. Even for Rodney that was a new negative record of mixed-up chatter. He should really take some time to talk to his friend about the things having happened back on the prison island. It looked like once again Rodney needed some kind of emotional trash can to be stopped from getting too loopy... Poor lad, why did he always get into this kind of trouble!

xxxxx

A/N: Okay, that's it for today.

And somehow I just couldn't help but wonder what'd happen if you put Ducky's mom and Carson's mom into one room together. What do you think?


	19. Note 13 & Letter 12

_Dear Diary,_

_I've never seen Elizabeth that furious before. _

_In other words: She yelled at me and I almost peed my pants, feeling like a little schoolboy. But, honestly, I deserved the bashing. Here's why: _

_I, genius that I am, decided to take a shot at an Ancient superweapon we found out there. But of course EVERYTHING went wrong. And by everything I don't mean Radek being too bloody brainy to operate a calculator or Sheppard making nitwit comments._

_**No.** I mean that the thing got to my head and I eventually grilled one of my most-trusted subordinates and blew up an entire solar system._

_Or no, wait 5/6 of a solar system (but tell that to those exaggerating non-academic jarheads out there...)._

_But what could I possibly do? A giant, super, real-time ZedPM like the one back in that (now atomized) facility just makes every, halfway nutty, physicist's mouth water. This is why it reminded me so much of the Manhattan Project..._

_Anyway, let's -not- talk about it any longer. The whole mouth-watering part is making me crave for a BIIIIG load of consolation chocolate right now._

_See you tomorrow. Your depressed + misunderstood genius, Rodney_

_PS: Note to Myself: Losing Sheppard's trust does actually **hurt.** So better try NOT TO LOSE IT again._

---

Carson merely frowned at this entry, remembering what he himself had written down that day...

xxxxx

_Dear Darleen, _

_Today I finally realized why I haven't become a full-time pathologist: The poor lad on my table was so bloody fried. Absolutely horrible. This job surely makes you become a wee tad quirky after awhile, really... _

_(No wonder my anatomy professor chatted with the corpses. If I have to do that resection job more often, maybe I'll start talking to my late patients as well...)_

_Pray that I don't. Love, Carson_

---

Gosh, the Scot had problems... Quickly Rodney put the letter away. _Let's **not **think about it. _

xxxxx


	20. Note 14 & Some letters

_A/N: Finally I've got both Instinct and Conversion together on one DVD and so here's the digest:_

xxxxx

_Dear Diary,_

_I wonder whether I'd better spare you this last week. But who else shall I bare my soul to? Carson is till locking himself up somewhere, Sheppard would probably eat me if I tried talking to him about it all again. And, well, Ronon isn't an option either. Frankly I'm not talking to him anymore because I'm still totally disgusted by him. _

_Guess what he did this time??? He picked up an ABSOLUTELY UGLY, SLIMY, STINKY heap of Iratus bug poop to find out whether it was still fresh. Hell. I almost puked right into my NVGs because of that little stunt._

_And still, the big guy is not half as creepy as the thing that happened to poor Colonel Sheppard. He, of all people, converts into one of those scary bug things he hates to death because that Wraith kid Ellia started mutating about and went haywire. Luckily for Carson and myself she had enough mind left to save us from one of her fellow life-suckers, before she completely lost it. _

_Then came Sheppard and got the full dose of retrovirus from her. Yikes, and you know what **stupid me **did once we were back in Atlantis?! I wailed because of a stupid splinter. Sorry, but back then it seemed absolutely horrible to me. I hope Sheppard has overlooked that. Otherwise I fear that 20/20 hindsight won't be enough of an excuse... That way the two of us will **NEVER **come to terms again._

_God, I'm still feeling totally miserable. Yours, Rodney_

_Note to Myself: When Carson is better, I should consider writing him a complete list of all the illnesses I've diagnosed on myself when I was younger. I don't think he'd believe me the slightest bit of it._

-----

Carson closed the diary for a moment and groaned. No, he definitely wouldn't... But one thing was for sure Rodney was a bloody helpless case when it came to making a fuss.

xxxxx

_Hey Doc, _

_Thank you a lot for saving my ass. When it comes down to it, I'd say it was pretty damn close there for awhile. But you did a great job. So please don't beat yourself up about it. Without you I wouldn't be here anymore. Thanks again._

_Yours truly, John_

_PS: Perhaps I can make up for your contribution with a nice, big box of Scotch or something...?_

_-----_

_Dear John,_

_You're very welcome, lad. But I'm not so sure if I owe all your thanks. For a while I was really doubting, if all I tried to do would come out right. But, aye, now you're through the woods and I can halfway live with myself again. Besides, now I can promise you not to beat up myself on your behalf._

_Best, Carson_

_PS: I still have a pretty big stock of Scotch and Stout Ale myself. Perhaps you could come over, bring some munchies and then we can get a wee bit drunk and talk it all over. (Perhaps afterwards we're both feeling a tad better again.) _

-----

Rodney frowned. Carson was talking openly about getting drunk?? That was so not his style. The whole Conversion thing must've hit him far, far worse than he had first thought.

But perhaps boozing was the Highland way of dealing with bad things. Somehow Rodney found that a bit scary...

xxxxx

_Happy Halloween !!!_


End file.
